


On the Subject of Dreams

by Ezekiel Grayson (MordeshLibertine)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Comfort Food, Food, Gay yearning, M/M, Ok Solas did a lot of things wrong but you forgot one important fact which is I love him, Solas did nothing wrong, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23027281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MordeshLibertine/pseuds/Ezekiel%20Grayson
Summary: Aius Lavellan found his sleep plagued by dreams again, and unable to find an antidote, he left his room to seek out his dearest friend in Skyhold, the Apostate Solas.
Relationships: Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Solas
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	On the Subject of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Inquisition Cooks For You](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/564586) by zora-zen. 



Aius Lavellan had been having very similar, very vivid dreams for weeks now, ever since coming to Skyhold. 

He sat in a library such as he had seen in Val Royeaux, but different; one incomprehensibly old, incomprehensibly vast. Somehow, he knew, one of the books contained something he was missing - a piece of knowledge, a lost poem of the people, an incantation, a schematic or a sonnet. He didn't know what it was now, but the absence gnawed at him, a hunger in his belly, a hollow spot in his soul. What it was,he did not know, but he would know if he found it, and yet, every book he pulled from the shelves and read revealed nothing. He scrambled over shelves, sometimes climbing to the highest shelves to pluck a book there, sometimes sitting in a chair and grabbing book after book from the nearest shelf, scanning them and tossing them aside until they piled so high they threatened to fall and drown him in a deluge of words.

And while he read and searched, whispers swirled around him, and shapes flitted at the edge of his vision - spirits. Some kind, most not.

"He is lost," One whispered, matter-of-factly.

"Poor little Elfin boy," another jeered.

"No fight left to fight, no life left to live..."

"He will fall into ruin and silence, like all of them," 

"They are not of the people, they are not worthy of the name!"

"He should grovel in the dirt!"

"He should DIE!"

The voices became louder, meaner, more insistent. Then the hands appeared, from shelves of books, pushing, grabbing, demanding. Ethereal, but reaching - and when one touched him, his body began to turn to stone, run through with veins of sickly glowing green energy.

Aius ran. Ran down endless halls of books.

Then, a bookshelf, large, pendulous, full of countless forgotten tomes, appeared at the end of the hallway. A dead end.

It fell, covering his vision with darkness.

And he awoke.

\---

The sky was still dark outside - clear, and flecked with stars, but plunged into deepest night. Aius rose from his bed and shrugged on his dressing grown, plodding to the Balcony. By the position of the moon and stars, it was just past midnight. A new day, but no new dawn for many hours to come. 

Still, Aius knew he would not find rest again for at least a few hours.

Perhaps it was time to speak to Solas. Certainly, Solas' knowledge of the Fade might reveal if the dream meant anything, if there were forces of the Anchor or of Corypheus drawing him there - and regardless, to see Solas, to speak and debate with him, even when they didn't see to eye to eye - always soothed his soul, always left him sated - at least in mind.

Quietly, He crept through the main hall, careful to avoid the guard patrols. If there was one thing Dalish were good at, it was avoiding being seen by the Shem. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, but then again, he didn't trust them. For all his status as the inquisitor, Shemlen were Shemlen. If they didn't recognize him at first, they were as likely to shoot arrows at a thieving knife-ear, obviously up to no good this late at night, as they were to investigate or challenge.

Cassandra would likely have said he was too hard on them, and they would never do such a thing unprovoked, and Sera would have made excuses about his wild Dalish magic scaring the "Little People," but Solas, he knew, would understand. For all his mistrust of the Dalish, he, at least, understood the life of wandering, never staying in one place long, for fear the Shem would begin to suspect. 

Regardless, Aius did not have to prove any of them right or wrong, for he came to the door of Solas' tower unnoticed, or at least unchallenged, opened the door a crack, and crept in.

And Indeed, there was Solas, candle in one hand, brush in the other, applying minute details to one of his murals, this one the vision of a giant Corypheus looming over- 

Aius tried not to think too hardly about Haven. Some decent people had lost their lives there.

Still, the artist set down his brush and turned with a small smile.

"Lethalin," he murmured, in a low, soft voice, and Aius felt a thrill run through his bones, unbidden, "You are up late. Or is it early?"

"Solas! I could say the same of you!" Aius smiled. He knew Solas didn't sleep as much as many, at least not for rest, but he had half-expected to find him wandering the fade, leaving Aius to be forced to crawl back across the hallway and spend a sleepless night fighting his own demons.

"I have... slept more than enough, lately, I think," Solas smiled a small, secret smile, as if he was making a subtle joke, "But what of you? Your work should be leaving you exhausted."

"It is," Aius nodded, "But I fear my dreams are just as exhausting."

Solas nodded, "Ah. I had feared this might happen. The Anchor may pull you in many different ways, even in dreams."

"You feared?" Aius said, eyebrow raised.

Solas crossed back over to his desk, the table in the middle of his artistic workshop, and pulled aside a cloth, "I feared, but I wasn't sure. I thought I felt... ripples, in the Fade, Ripples that might originate from you, might have originated from the Anchor."

"You... felt the world change, didn't you say?" Aius said, thinking back to that strange meeting in... was it his dream, or Solas' dream? Or both? He was never sure.

Solas chuckled, "Indeed. Do not worry, I did not pry into the ripples any further than I had to confirm they weren't destabilizing the Fade. You deserve your privacy. But I could feel it, whether I would or not. I... felt it best not to bother you, in case it was nothing."

Aius sighed, "Maybe it is nothing. Maybe it's just my anxiety over... everything."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But if you came to me, it may portend more indeed. I would like to hear, regardless," Solas said. He sat down the table, gesturing to the chair across. As Aius walked over to take his seat, he noticed what Solas had uncovered: A midnight feast, but instead of the human fare the kitchens usually turned out, this seemed to be a very specific feast, such a dalish hunters might break their fast in the night watches.

It was all there. Wood Grubs, deep fried, looking freshly pulled from a campfire cauldron. Pickles and Olives, the bounty of the woods preserved for long journeys, yet still crisp and delicious. Thin slices of sausage, another way of preserving the bounty of the forest, mostly boar and rabbit, when simple cooked meat would not last long journeys. Cheeses, one in a crock, looking smooth and creamy, another wedge, looking hard - and both with the very recognizable slight yellow glow of Halla cheese, the kind one made by carrying a bag attached to a saddle or an Aravel during a journey, letting the natural bumps of the road do the stirring. And of course, thin slices of waybread. 

"Did you... have this prepared?"

Solas nodded, "I do enjoy a small midnight snack from time to time, but the... ripples were serious enough tonight that I thought you might come. So I prepared enough for two. I hope I was not overly presumptuous."

"Not at all!" Aius managed to blink his wide eyes, "But I thought you didn't have much in common with Dalish, and yet that Halla cheese comes from a very ancient recipe that we never share with outsiders."

"The spirit I learned it from was not an outsider," Solas said, with another small secret smile, "And for all you do for us, I... wanted to give you some small comfort, if I could, even if only a small taste of home. I fear I have been... somewhat infuriating, as of late."

Aius winced. The... Dalish issue, again.

"I... have told you, Solas. I can let sleeping wolves lie," Aius said, and shook his head softly, "I only wish you had encountered Clan Lavellan first. Perhaps we could have convinced you of our good will. Perhaps we would have..." He trailed off. It was a conversation they'd had before. So much wisdom Solas might share, so much he might know of their history. If only he wasn't so stubborn.

Solas stroked his chin briefly before answering, "Perhaps you would have at that... I admit. I have never met a Dalish elf quite like you, Aius."

He stopped for a moment, and reached beneath the table again, this time pulling out two wooden cups, and a large stoppered bottle. Undoing the stopper, he poured a generous portion of a thick, reddish liquid - a berry wine he had shared once or twice with Aius before, but whose origin he would not reveal - and pushed one of the cups toward Aius.

"Still," Solas said again, "I do not believe you left a warm bed to trade barbs over Elven history with me, at least not tonight. Tell me of your dreams, as we take our fill."

So Aius told him the dream, the library, vast and cavernous, the searching for an unknown but desperately needed piece of lore, the spirits becoming increasingly agitated.

Solas nodded along, and when Aius was finished, he took a long sip from his cup, then shook his head slightly, "I... recognize such libraries. They do exist in the fade, echos of great repositories of knowledge, such as people kept in ancient days. Many of the books have become torn and faded by the chaotic energies of the fade, but many more are still full of writing, and some full of writing that has yet to be written. I have been known to walk those halls from time to time, in search of knowledge, or of spirits I know drawn to book and quill. Still, I do not recall seeing you there, nor are the spirits there particularly agitated when last I checked."

Aius sighed, "Is the Anchor drawing them out, perhaps?"

Solas stroked his chin, "Possibly, but... it is just as likely you are right. Anxiety has given rise to a scenario in which you seek frantically for knowledge - perhaps knowledge of our people, perhaps knowledge of a way to control the Anchor. On a personal level, It is, perhaps, all we can do to continue our quest, and hope that further knowledge stirs the anxiety in your soul. Still, I don't think these dreams portend any great danger to you mind or body, not directly."

Aius snorted and took another swig of wine, "Perhaps not, Lethalin, but it is still a danger to my sleep. The last thing I need is to lose my head to the swipe of a bear claw in the Hinterlands because Nightmares have stolen my senses."

Solas nodded, "You are correct, Aius. I am sorry. I did not mean to sound dismissive."

Aius frowned, feeling a slight pang of regret himself, "I know you didn't. I.... fear I may be a bit grumpy."

Solas smiled softly again, "And you have every right to be, I think. Yes, if we are to deal with your sleep, perhaps it is best to try more traditional ways. I can speak to the herbalists at the keep, there are certain herbs we can grow that may be of use. Beyond that... well, There's sleep regimens, meditative exercises that I might show you, and.... Well, sometimes simply having another person in bed beside you can be enough to calm a wandering mind."

Aius started at that last thought, a burst of nervous energy suddenly pulsing to life in his chest.

"Wait, that last one- Solas, you're suggesting I take a lover simply as a sleep aid?"

Solas shook his head, "I would never suggest you fall into bed with the first person you come across, Lethalin, unless you wished to. I only meant... there are many people in this castle who would help fill your bed, platonically or otherwise, and the closeness of another person can help with nightmares. Still, I fear I overstepped a boundary. I didn't mean to push you into anything you would be uncomfortable with."

Aius frowned skeptically, his nervousness at the idea now somewhat overcome by the slight thrill of discussing such a thought - especialy with such a handsome man as Solas, something whispered at the back of his head, but he tamped that particular thought down. Solas hadn't noticed his flirting when they first met, so he'd simply let it be. It was hardly the first time he'd fallen for a man who didn't seem to share his enjoyment of the company of other men. But... Solas had opinions on his romantic life? A reckless, slightly bitter part of himself found itself... wondering.

"No, no, I admit, I'm curious, Solas. What did you have in mind?"

Solas raised an eyebrow, "You... want my opinion on such a personal matter?"

Aius chuckled, "There's very few people in Skyhold I trust as you. Even if we don't always see eye to eye, I know you will always give me fair and truthful counsel."

Solas, oddly enough, winced slightly at that, but he did, eventually, voice a thought.

"Well, what about Dorian? I have seen him give you pointed looks when you debate Tevine history with him."

"Dorian... is a Shem, Solas."

"Certainly, that hasn't stopped many of the people from Intermingling, as I'm sure you are aware."

"And I'm not saying that alone would stop me. But Dorian... He... He's not the worst I've ever met. And he's handsome, I will give him that. But he still holds fast to many of the prejudices of his people. He's still arrogant, and cruel in his own way. I wonder, who is he trying to free Tevinter for? The few times I have tried to talk to him of Slavery, he's all but shut me down. He insists being a slave is no worse than being a peasant, as if the life of a peasant somehow excuses the buying and selling of humans! As if slaves and peasants alike do not deserve so, so much more than noble families like Dorian's give them, whether in Tevinter or anywhere else! By the Dread Wolf, what good is a Revolution that doesn't free those in bondage? I fear some days that he truly only wants to replace one Tyranny with another! No, no. I appreciate his contributions to the Inquisition, but some days I could barely consider him a friend, let alone a lover."

Solas smiled softly, "You... make a fine point, Aius. I am glad you feel so devoted to the cause of freedom, after all. I don't think an Inquisitor who didn't could have done half as much good as you have, thus far. No, you are right. Then... what about The Iron Bull?"

"The Bull? Seriously?" Aius blinked.

"You disagree?"

"He... Iron Bull needs a boss. I like him, but he's been under the yoke of the Qun for so long, he's been so battered by life, that I don't think he knows what it is to think for himself. Someday, maybe soon, maybe not, he'll find himself a crossroads. He'll have to either abandon the Qun, or betray everything he's built here in the South. I don't think he'll be able to make that choice on his own. He knows what choice he needs to make, but he won't. And if I'm still his boss when the time comes, he'll look to me. I can make that choice as his boss. I don't think it's fair I make it as his lover."

"I...hadn't considered that, Auis. Your wisdom humbles me again."

"Besides, I'm not even sure he likes men, to be honest. He spends all his time boasting about bedding women, but I don't think I ever heard him so much as acknowledge a man in that way - and I know more than one of the stable boys would pull him behind a haystack in a second. And, ah... judging by the nature of some of his boasts, even if he did like men, I'm not sure our... uh, tastes, would align, to be frank."

Solas nodded again, then spoke, "Perhaps you want someone closer to home. Perhaps Loranil?"

"He'd be even worse than Bull. He doesn't even see me as a boss, he seems me as something akin to a God. He's a young man who has a lot of growing up to do. He'd never be the equal I need."

"A God of the Elves? I should hope not!" Solas raised an eyebrow at that, and seemed to peer a little closer at Aius.

"Oh, no, no, I only meant it as a figure of speech," Aius raised his hands as if to sue for peace, "I would never consider myself anything close to an equal to the gods."

Solas nodded, "Of course not." Then, "You are a kind and gentle soul, and thus much better than they could hope to be..." He murmured under his breath, almost soft enough that Aius barely heard.

Aius shook his head, pushing away whatever that was for later consideration - after all, he had not come to argue elven lore tonight, that was true. "It's a good thought, Solas," he said, meditatively, slightly sadly, "I mean, someone to keep me company in bed. But... I am the Inquisitor. Not many people in this keep could see beyond that. And of those people, fewer still would consider me that way - or I them."

Solas frowned, "I would not pressure you into doing so, Lethalin, but... I find myself saddened. You are a good man. That there can be no-one to share your load..."

Aius shook his head, "I am not wholly alone. I have counselors and advisors. Some of whom I would even consider friends."

"But beyond that?"

"Beyond that..." Aius felt his heartbeat quicken. His head fell to his chest, to hide red rising there in his cheek, failing to keep words from rising to his throat unbidden, "I suppose there is one. But... I am unsure he would find such an arrangement agreeable."

Solas templed his fingers as he leaned in a bit closer to Aius, "I... see. And what makes you think that?"

Aius looked up at Solas, unsure. Certainly, he perhaps only meant to give advice to a friend, how to woo someone? But how could he put it without making it clear that the object of his desire sat here in this room as well?

"We do not always see eye to eye," he murmured, "He is confused by my people, Stubborn, and infuriatingly resistant to change. And yet, he is one of the wisest men I have ever know. His travels have bought him to corners of Thedas not even the aravels the Dalish have reached, and his stories of those places fill me with wonder, with... yearning, for places I may never see, for people I never knew. And in every story, there is inquisitiveness, and determination, and yet, a kernel of compassion, as well. And in battle, he is strong, dependable. Around the campfire he is soft-spoken, but wickedly subtle with a jab or a joke. And he is Handsome. His cheekbones, his deep, piercing eyes, his soft, serene voice. I have come to depend on him greatly."

"It is..." Solas murmured back, but his face was blank, and Aius could not tell whether he knew the subject or not, "obvious you are taken with this man. And yet you have not told him how you feel?"

Aius chuckled, half bitterly, "I... have flirted with him, a time or two, but I stopped after he showed no interest. I assume he doesn't feel about men - or me - that way, and I have never been one to push where I am not wanted. No, I understand that sometimes, such things are not to be. He is still one of my dearest friends, and I am content to stay near his side, to speak of history and philosophy with him, to hear stories of his journeys when he feels like talking, to admire him, so close, and yet so far."

Solas leaned back in his chair again, hands now folded in his lap, looking Aius up and down, "It is.... possible he noted your flirting, perhaps even appreciated it, but was not sure what it portended. Or perhaps, he has his own reasons for staying alone, a burden or a task that he did not think allowed him time to settle in such a way."

Aius blinked. It was, perhaps, true. But also, it sounded less like an explanation, and more like a list of reasons someone might make for themselves of their own solitude, to comfort themselves at a lonely hour. But to assume that - no, it was an arrogant thought. Solas' reasons - if they were his reasons - were his own, and he had no right to pry, or expect more.

"I suppose," Aius finally said in answer, "It is as I said before. Some of us who would welcome the companionship of a lover carry burdens that do not allow them to find one."

"I suppose," Solas said, "But... Perhaps he has allowed his burden to cloud his sight and his thoughts overmuch. Perhaps he was too taken with his own knowledge, and failed to see another path in front of him."

Aius felt his heart beating faster. Surely Solas wasn't - no Solas WAS that smart - but what did he mean? He tried to choose his next words carefully.

"I am not one who believes in Soulmates," Aius said, "There are any number of reasons two people may not find each other, even if they are so close they might reach out and touch each other while passing in the night. Perhaps one of them does not feel desire for the other's body or soul - or does not feel desire at all that way. Perhaps one of them is not ready or willing to take a lover. Perhaps they never recognize the spark in each other that would draw them together. I am content, if that spark does not appear, to find my way as I can, with friends. But... If the spark does appear-"

"If the spark appears..." Solas murmured back.

"I only hope I can reach out and grab it. The night is dark, and we must take what warmth we can, and hope for the dawn."

For a moment, Aius and Solas sat, looking at each other across the table. Then, Solas shook his head, and smiled softly. Aius felt himself screaming internally, wondering what this meant. Did Solas know? Was he even now about to strike Aius down, explain to him how foolish it was of him to assume he felt that way? 

"I... think it is time I retired to bed," Solas said.

"Oh! Oh, of course," Aius answered with a stammer, thanking his lucky stars Solas had let this go gracefully, hoping it ended soon so he could retreat himself (and shiver? cry? sigh in relief? scream? He wasnt sure what his body wanted to do right now), "I'm sorry, Solas, it's late, and we could both use a few hours of sleep, I've kept you up far too long-"

Solas raised a hand.

"You have done no wrong, Aius," he said, "I too, enjoy speaking with you. And I found our talk tonight... especially enlightening. As I said, I have never met a Dalish elf quite like you."

"But I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable..." Aius said.

"It is not your fault," Solas said, "I... It has been a long time. I have considerations. And yet..."

"And yet?" Aius prompted him, softly.

"I cannot promise anything, Aius," Solas answered, "But... you fascinate me."

"What does fascination mean?" Aius chuckled, self-consciously aware of his heart in his chest, a lump in his throat, tears - formerly of shame, now perhaps of joy, in his eyes, "A wolf is often fascinated by his prey."

Solas shook his head.

"And a Hunter by his target," He answered, " But you not the target. You are the arrow."

Aius blinked. He wasn't even sure what that meant, but he felt a thrill run down his entire body, as Solas looked at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"Would you stay with me, tonight?" Solas said, "I would appreciate the company, I think."

"Yes! Of course," Aius said, "I would like that. I would like that very much."

Solas stood, and held out a hand to him. Aius took it, and rose himself, into Solas' waiting arms.

**Author's Note:**

> The description of the food in this fic is heavily inspired by a Tumblr post, linked in the notes at the start of the fic. 
> 
> Solas should have been Bi and I will save my beautiful horrible egghead beloved in DA4 THIS I SWEAR


End file.
